


Scully’s Brüste

by Sarie_Fairy



Series: Vignettes Between... [1]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: Affection, Breasts, Episode: s07e10 Sein Und Zeit, F/M, Fondling, Foreplay, Grief/Mourning, Love, Naked Cuddling, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 03:08:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20382676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarie_Fairy/pseuds/Sarie_Fairy
Summary: This vignette takes place during Season 7, Episode 10 of the X-Files, “Sein und Zeit”.  After the scene when Mulder breaks down crying in his living room in the dark with Sculy comforting him, and sometime before the scene the following morning when Skinner knocks on his door. This is something that may have happened...





	Scully’s Brüste

* * *

Their equilibrium was found when one of them needed the other. The balance was slightly off when they were both physically and mentally sound. Their connection, not as strong. They might bicker, roll their eyes, become frustrated and find it easier to leave the basement office alone at the end of the day. It wasn’t healthy, but it was their co-dependency.

They would never talk about it. Although Mulder would surely come up with a profile explaining how the patterns they formed were due to the nature of what they investigated, the intensity of their work, the long hours. Meaning that over time, they necessarily filled each other’s voids. Every void, eventually.

It was Mulder’s turn to need. Scully’s turn to care. In any other circumstance, it might have been the other way around. She had just autopsied her closest friend’s mother, something she found confronting. Her findings deemed that the cause of death was suicide, and she had to deliver the news. It was just that it was Mulder she was delivering the news to. Mulder’s mother who died. And to really twist the knife, the case they were working on was murky, and sad and dredging up his tragic past.

Something hidden within her was quenched when he was vulnerable. Not that she enjoyed his pain, she didn’t. _She_ just had to be the one to take it away. To rid him of the illness, or demon. Her fulfilment came from being the only one he’d ask for, or call out for, in the darkness. Her. And she would always come, do whatever it would take.

Scully admonished herself for the thoughts she was having as she cradled Mulder’s head to her chest, but it didn’t stop the dampness forming in her underwear. She was sitting on his leather sofa, his head supported by her arm on a cushion in her lap. His face to her breast, shoulder pushed up against the side of her thigh. The rest of him stretched out on the dark green leather. He was in a grey tee and jeans. Scully had helped him off with his shoes just before she’d arrange them into the positions they found themselves in now. He had been bent over her before, sitting in a chair, for a long while, sobbing into her neck, arms draped across her back as she crouched before him, his head in hands. The sobbing had stopped but it was still evident on his face. Needy Mulder. Scully, his pill.

“I’m here, Mulder. Everything is going to be okay. I’m here.” She said to him, stroking his cheek, and ever so slightly rocking. An arm snaked around her waist, crushed between her back and the sofa, clutching at her, as the tears came again. His hand managed to find its way under the back of her shirt, hanging onto her bare skin. 

Every other earthly thing fell away when he needed her. She was exactly where she was meant to be, doing exactly what she was meant to be doing. Most of her time wasn’t spent with the luxury of that knowledge.

She liked the pressure that was being pushed into her breasts from the force of his sobs. And he was gaining comfort in her bosom, in the softness there, in her Scully scent. He leaned further into her once he realised she was permitting him to. Pressed himself against her chest, feeling the suppleness of her breasts beneath her crisp light blue shirt. He kissed her then. Over her shirt and she stroked his hair, bent her head down to kiss the side of his face. “It’s ok. I’m here.” He squeezed her tighter and angled his head so his lips landed on the bare skin at her décolletage. His mouth latent, barely touching her.

“Why didn’t she tell me Scully?” He anguished.

“Don’t do this to yourself, Mulder. Please.” She kissed his temple. Held her lips there. Pressed. Willed him to let go, to forget, to sleep.

She sat up and absorbed her vision. He faced up slightly so his mouth rested on the exposed skin where the volume of her breasts began, his lips still, eyes closed, brow furrowed. She moved her hand, fingers landing on the first fastened button of her shirt. She popped it open, revealing more comforting skin for him. She ran her fingers through his hair and he buried his face in her cleavage. Breathing her in. Kissing between her breasts. He removed his hand from behind her back and reached around to the next button down. He flicked it open before tugging her shirt down, under her left breast. She patted the back of his head, let him know that he could take what he needed. His lips and teeth found her nipple, through fabric and clamped down. Sucking and nipping. She gently traced his brow with her index finger, noticing the crinkles had disappeared, down along his cheek bone, caressing his ear, tracing his jaw. Watched him. His bottom lip curled back, forced by the shape of her breast.

His hand returned to her back, moving up under her shirt, running over her bra strap. Searching. She reached between her breasts and unclasped the fastener there, in the front. He released his mouth, moved his head back. She pushed her bra aside for him, relieving her left breast from its cup. He breathed out audibly, hot breath against her, and she hardened further as the hot air became cold. Then warm lips and slippery tongue and tender teeth. A spark ignited within her as her eyes rolled back and her lids drifted closed.

He suckled her. Slowly. Purposefully. His body beginning to relax. Her underwear growing wetter. Thoughts of Oedipus and sunflower seeds and Freud floated into her mind. She sighed, taking comfort in his comfort. This was her Mulder, and this was what he needed. And that was all that mattered right now. He needed, she offered, and he accepted. 

She pulled the hem of his shirt out of his jeans, dragging it up, revealing his bare back, and rubbed circles lightly into his skin with her fingernails. Her arm cradling his head brought him in, closer. He sighed into her. Languidly sucking, circling, lapping, soothing.

Two people, immersed. No judgment; just intimacy, and affection, and love, flowing between them.

Eventually he let go, her nipple springing free. He turned up to face her. Sorrowful. Vulnerable. Exposed. “It’s okay, Mulder. It’s okay.” He drew breath. That was the answer he didn’t know he needed, to the question he hadn't asked. He dotted kisses on the place his lips had just been as he brought his hand around from behind her back. He pushed the right cup of her bra aside, revealing her other beautiful, full breast. He shifted himself in her lap, returning his hand behind her, sliding it into the waist band of her pants this time. His mouth then found its new home. Hot, wet, tongue, and berry pink lips. Exquisitely sucking. Gently rolling her nipple between his teeth. Circling his tongue. Occasionally pulling back to lick at her. Scully bent her neck so she could kiss his hair line. Connecting her lips to him too.

After he’d consumed her, red and swollen, Scully found her way down, lying on her side facing into him, her back flush against the back of the sofa. His head at her chest, face pressed into her naked breasts. Arms wrapped over and under her, hands tucked into her pants and underwear, fingers on her bare flesh. His breathing was even, drawn out. He was finally asleep. She ran her fingers up and down the nape of his neck, lips pressed to the top of his head. She closed her eyes; she would let sleep come too. He may wake before the morning, need her again.


End file.
